


True Steel

by Tinyshot



Series: Silver and Steel [4]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Makeup Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6937372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinyshot/pseuds/Tinyshot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Blind Betrayal hits, and the world crumbles. With the new knowledge about Danse's true identity as a synth M7-97, the three are split apart. Who's will is stronger? Who would come up on top? </p><p>The damage is done, how would they deal with the fallout? The future is uncertain and holds more questions than answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Humanity Redefined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blind Betrayal is here. In an instant Anna realized that Arthur Maxson is not the man she thought he was.

_Weak steel_ , a voice from the past echoed in his head. _Weak steel_.

It was a female voice. High, but commanding, with a ring of metal to it. There was no disobeying it, no questioning it. No escaping it.

He had hoped to forget it. He had thought he did.

 _You are weak steel, boy_.

 

The bunker was dark. Cold. Buried deep under ground, it felt like a tomb.

If Maxson would have his way, it would become one. Anna clutched the rifle in her hands. Righteous Authority, a gift from the marked man. She had cackled when he had told her the name all this time ago, smiling despite being still shaken by the skeleton-like synths.

Back then she had no idea he was one of them. Nobody did. No one could have suspected.

The turrets came alive as she dashed behind the wall. He had expected someone to come for him. Danse was always careful, mindful of the next move.

Anna dispatched the turrets and a Protectron with ease. Ordering Dogmeat to wait for her, she stepped over the crumpled hunk of metal, walking through the collapsed wall into a dimly lit room.

Danse was sitting on the cold dusty floor, hugging his knees. He looked vulnerable. Stripped of his confidence, his family, his whole world. Anna's heart clenched painfully in her chest. She knew exactly how he felt.

It was how she had felt when she had stepped out of the Vault into the ruins of her world. Lost. Scared. In terrible pain.

It was how she had felt when she had teleported out from the Institute once and for all. But then he had been there for her. Danse came when no one else did.

Not even Arthur.

 _Maxson_ , she corrected herself. She shouldn't call _the Elder_ by his name. She was reminded of that more times than she could count by her fellow brothers and sisters. But Anna ignored those people. She figured she knew him well enough to have earned the right.

It turned out, she didn't know him at all. She had ignored the darkness within him, edging right under the surface.

“ _Love is blind_ ,” her mother had told her once. You tend to willfully ignore the things that should have warned you... until it's too late. “ _And it will always be too late, honey. When you see the real man behind what you thought was there, there is no going back. You will not like what you see_.”

Anna slowly approached Danse. He looked up at her, his expression solemn. His dark eyes were broken and dim.

"I should have known he’d send you. A punishment for both of us."

Nodding, Anna sat down next to him.

"I didn't," her voice was hoarse when she started speaking. She cleared her throat, even though it felt so tight she didn't know it would help at all, "I didn't know he could be so cruel."

Danse's head jerked up and down before he lowered his gaze again.

"That's who he is, Anna. You may have softened his exterior, but this... is the real Arthur Maxson. Does he even want me alive?"

"... no."

Danse let out the shuddering breath he had been holding. Running his fingers through his thick black hair, he looked at her. His gaze looked haunted.

"Then you are here to carry out your orders, soldier. Do it."

Anna stared at him in disbelief. Then she threw the rifle away from her, sending it clattering on the floor.

"I won't do it, Danse," she said firmly, clenching her fists to stop them from trembling.

"You are under orders-"

"Fuck 'em. Do I ever listen?" she interrupted him, grabbing his shoulders. He looked up at her, unsure. But there was a glimmer of hope deep down under despair and pain. It was gone in an instant.

"Anna... if Maxson knows, he..."

"I'll handle Maxson," she spat, not knowing if it was true. Hoping that the right words would come to her when it would be time. Danse didn't need to know that. "Listen to me, Danse. I won't kill you. I will never hurt you."

She took his hand in hers. It felt hot when she touched it, as always. Rough, with tough skin and callouses. Tracing the lines on his palm she smiled, trying to be strong.

"You've seen me at my best and held me at my worst. Just let me do the same for you. Please."

"You can't make this one better, Anna," he whispered, shaking his head, "I'm a synth. An enemy. I need to be destroyed. Made an example of..."

"No. You're human, Danse. More human than a vengeful asshole like Maxson can ever be," she said firmly, holding his gaze.

His eyes widened. She pressed on.

"I know, Danse. I know how you feel. The rage. The feeling of betrayal from your own body. The doubt. The pain... so much pain."

Moving even closer to him, she straddled his lap, taking his face in her hands. He didn't move. The light in his eyes was all but extinguished. He needed a spark to reignite.

Thankfully, he had taught her how.

"Humanity doesn't belong to humans alone. You feel anger. You feel happiness. You feel love. I know you do. I can see it in you. I can feel it."

Only in the silence you can hear the right words. Only in the darkness you can see the true light.

Pressing her forehead to his, Anna closed her eyes, hot tears rolling out of her eyes and falling onto his face. It was time to repay her debt to him.

"You are human, Danse. You are real. _We_ are real... and _you are not alone_."

He shuddered under her as the words had left her lips. His arms closed around her in an instant, pressing her against him so tight it hurt her ribs. She let him do it. A quiet sob escaped him, muffled as he buried his face into the crook of her neck.

Stroking his hair, Anna held him as he was shaking in her arms. She was flooded with relief that she had found the right words. She hadn’t been sure if she could. It was so different this time, her own words echoing the pain within her.

Sometimes she still struggled with her own feelings that she was but a copy of the person she had once been. But Danse had made sure she knew - she was the real Anna.

She had to make sure he knew that he was a real human too. No matter if he had a few extra parts. His feelings were real. His personality and memories no less valid. And that she cared about him no less than when she didn't know.

It seemed like it had been hours before he was ready to stand on his own. Helping him up, Anna brushed her fingertips against his cheek and smiled.

"It's going to be alright, Danse."

He sighed, his eyes still red and raw, but he wasn't trembling any longer.

"Where would I go? What would I do? The Brotherhood was my entire life, Anna... I don't know anything else."

"We'll figure it out. Come with me to Sanctuary. It's remote enough. You will be safe. The Brotherhood doesn't come that far north."

Yet.

"Alright," he whispered. Reaching into his flight suit, he pulled out a chain and tugged on it, ripping it off, "take my holotags with you when you go to... when you go back. They will need proof..."

She took his tags, hot in her hand from the heat of his body, and nodded.

"Come. Let's get out of this place."

 

He had placed a small tracer beacon in her bag a long time ago. Ever since that time she had run away after breaking into the Institute. He couldn't lose her again.

But it felt like he already had. The way her eyes darkened when he gave the order. She had argued with him before, but never had she sounded so spiteful. If a gaze could kill, he would be dead now.

When she turned on her heel and marched off in a middle of a sentence, he knew she would disobey his order.

Arthur hovered the vertibird over the landing pad, touching down gently. Pulling a headset off, he flipped the required switches, unbuckled and proceeded to walk down the crumbled stairs towards of an old pre-war bunker.

The signal was coming from below.

Part of him wanted to let her get away with it, bringing him Danse's holotags, telling him that he was dead, despite there being no blood on her clothing or the tags themselves. Telling him to call off the search and be done with it. Taking the easy way out.

But he needed to know if she chose Danse over him and look her in the eye as she said it.

Maybe then it would hurt less to pull the trigger on his friend.

Did the synth kill the real Danse and replace him while on the recon mission? Or was the machine pretending all along? God, what had he done. He had let a synth touch Anna. Let him get close to her, so close that she would rather turn away from him then leave the synth.

It sickened him.

Everyone who he had ever cared about had left him. Dead or lost, they never came back. And now he had lost Anna and Danse too. He knew they wouldn’t come back either.

It was as much of a goodbye as he could have. Even if it would make them hate him even more. With Sarah and the Wanderer, he never got a chance to say farewell.

Sarah was already dead when he saw her for the last time. Pale, unmoving. Unknowing.

The one everybody called the Wanderer, Daphne, had just vanished soon after. She had left no trace to follow. It was like she had never existed in the first place, all of her possessions gone, all records erased.

But the flowing river of pure water was real. She had left her mark upon the world before walking away from it all, not even sparing him a glance.

He could still see her in his mind's eye, red hair and deep brown eyes, bending down to ruffle his hair. She was so beautiful... Their faces were suddenly almost on the same level. Arthur didn't go into a growth spurt until much later that year, so he was barely reaching over the middle of her ample chest.

He hadn’t known what to do with himself when she had played with his hair, smiling brightly.

"You could use some flexibility, you know that? Not everything you need to know about the world is written in the Codex."

He was now almost as old as she was back then, but it felt like she had always known all the answers he had struggled so desperately to find.

"I know what I'm doing, Knight," he tried not to blush as she moved closer, almost touching his face with hers. He held his breath.

Daphne's smile widened as she poked him on the nose with her finger. He backed away from her, his arms flailing.

"Hey!"

Her laughter still rang in his ears years after she was gone.

"You are always so serious! You need to smile more, Arthur!"

She straightened up and walked away, round hips swaying gently. Number 101 was clearly visible on her blue jumpsuit in the the shadowy hallway. That was the last time he had seen her.

Sarah's death turned the entire chapter upside down. Vengeance overtook him, sending him into the wasteland alone to find the deathclaw that had murdered her. He was hurt afterwards, badly. He was bedridden for way over a month.

Daphne never came to visit. He knew that she was around somewhere, but he never saw her again. She was on a mission. On patrol. On a debrief with the new Elder. One day when he was strong enough, he walked into Daphne's room hoping to find her, only to discover that there was nothing left. He-

The door opened, breaking the spell.

His breath caught in this throat when he saw that she had cast off her uniform in favor of an old, blue Vault suit.

Different vault dweller. Different knight.

Same all-knowing eyes.

The shadows behind her moved and light fell on Danse's face, still very much alive. Arthur’s chest burned from the inside out. She had made her choice, then. Somehow he had already known.

The moment on the beach seemed to have happen a thousand years ago. It was too late, he had lost her too. Shield yourself from those not bound to you by Steel...

_Not everything is written in the Codex, Arthur._

_Not now_. But Daphne's ghostly image stood right next to Anna, and the Wanderer was smiling. She would now be as old as Anna was, twenty-nine… He blinked, and she was gone.

"Maxson."

"Why is this thing not destroyed, Knight?" He demanded, his tone unforgiving. She stepped closer to him.

A low, menacing growl like her dog would have made seemed to be reflecting her feelings on the matter. She pressed on until she was standing at arm's reach. He could see the burning hatred in her eyes.

"This ' _thing_ ' is one of your best men. He is alive because you're wrong."

"He?!" Arthur jabbed a finger towards Danse, "Danse isn't a man! It's a machine, an automaton created by the Institute!"

"You know it's not true. He is a good man. Better than you are."

Rage flashed in his chest, expanding rapidly. Pushing away pain, sorrow and regret. They would come back later, they always did. But for now there was no place for them left in his heart.

"It's not human! It wasn't born from a womb of a loving mother, it was-"

" _Were you?_ "

And just like that, in the blink of an eye, his fury was extinguished. And as it collapsed upon itself, the other ghost came. This one wasn't gentle or encouraging. This one was cruel. He supposed he'd taken after her.

 _Weak steel_.

Arthur staggered away from her as if she had hit him, bashing all the air out of his lungs. As he retreated, she pressed forward, matching his steps.

"I know you too well, Arthur Maxson. You let me too close."

_Foolish boy with your foolish dreams._

"Let me tell you something, Elder," she leaned closer, lowering her voice, "you don't want me as your enemy."

_I am ashamed of being your mother._

"I can destroy you with my words alone," he knew that was true. He had told her too much. She had learned about his regrets. His insecurities. His mistakes, "Now. Let. Him. Go."

_Weak steel._

Arthur turned away, unable to look at her any longer.

"Danse," it took everything that was left of his strength to stop his voice from wavering, "as far as I'm concerned, you're dead. You were pursued and slain by this Knight and your remains were incinerated. From this day forward you are forbidden to set foot on the Prydwen or speak to anyone from Brotherhood of Steel. Should you choose to ignore me, you will be fired upon immediately. Are we clear?"

"Thank you, Arthur," said Danse behind him. Arthur shot a glance at his former friend over his shoulder.

"You're only alive because of her."

"I'm glad we're clear about that," snarled Anna, turning away and walking towards Danse. The Number 111 on her back seemed to mock him just as she did.

She hugged the synth. Arthur flinched at the sight.

"Go to Goodneighbor, Danse. I'll visit. I promise."

She was still of the Brotherhood. But like usual, she payed no heed to his orders.

"Why Goodneighbor?" The synth seemed confused.

"Because the people there need you."

Her hand dived into her bag, producing a black hat, with a silver ribbon on it. She put in in his hand, then took out a black trench coat - a coat that was supposed to be stashed away in Arthur's room - and draped it over his shoulders.

"Do what you do best, Danse. Protect them."

Anna gave up the Shroud - part of herself - to him. Never bothering to ask Arthur what he thought about it. After everything they had been through... She had chosen to give it up to give the synth purpose.

Danse put the coat on, slipping his arms into the sleeves. He hugged her tight, then donned the black hat. Walking past Arthur, he tried to catch his eye. Arthur didn't return the glance.

He just wanted him to be gone.

Anna looked at Danse's back until he melted into the shadows. She then reached into her pocket, finding a pack of cigarettes. Silently taking one out, she put it in between her lips and lit it on fire. It reflected in her eyes, making them flash red like embers for a split second.

She marched up the vertibird platform and Arthur could only do the same. Ever graceful, Anna easily jumped up into the 'bird and went directly for the minigun on the other side.

Arthur climbed into the pilot's seat, concentrating on the task at hand. But he knew that he had lost her too, along with the closest friend he had ever had. There was nothing more left in him. He was… numb.

He needed time. But there was never enough time, and he knew it. The Institute...

_When the Institute is defeated, we'll talk about it._

Even though she was still here, right behind him in the cabin of the 'bird, Arthur knew, Anna had joined the host of the ghostly voices that would haunt him as long as he lived. The people he had loved. The people he had lost.

And it was his own doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What now?
> 
> <3 to syrenpan for putting up with me and my terrible grammar.  
> Let me know what you think in the comments :)


	2. The Last Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the victor go the spoils.

It was a standoff.

It felt that way. Not a meeting of the allied forces. Not a triumphant march to the enemy's gate. She looked him in the eye and their gazes clashed like swords.

Everything about her screamed defiance in his face. Her stance, confident, with a long leg outstretched to the side. Her colonial outfit decorated with golden stars. Her tricorn hat tilted audaciously to the side.

Her eyes challenged him, daring him to say something.

_Say it. Say that you've missed me. Say that you are happy to see me. Say that this is not how a Paladin should be dressed._

But she was not his Paladin. She was the General, head of another army. This was supposed to be a meeting of the allied leaders.

Anna smirked and shifted her pose slightly, tilting her hip just a bit. She knew it drove him mad, in more ways than one.

Arthur didn't move. He didn't let his face change to show his longing mixed with sadness in equal measure. This was a war party. There was no place for his feelings here.

It stung like a stab wound when he noticed her breastplate. The Brotherhood insignia was scratched off but still visible with Minutemen musket and lightning bolt stenciled over.

There was a musket in her hand to match the one on her chest. Silvery, gleaming, it drew attention. The Freedom Fighter, the weapon that Danse made for her.

She chose to destroy the Institute wielding a weapon that a synth had made. It seemed fitting somehow. But it also declared 'you're wrong' in his face. Was he?

It was for the first time since Listening Post Bravo that she had met his gaze. Her gaze was cold. The light brown of her eyes seemed as black as the void in this lighting. Indifferent. The warmth and love were gone, perhaps forever.

There were no more Arthur and Anna. They were the Elder and the General, standing at the gates of their enemy with their respective armies at their backs.

 

They walk up the steps of CIT. Their soldiers gathered down below. Arthur stepped forward, clasping his hands behind his back. Anna stood to the side of him, leaning on her musket. This was not how he had pictured this moment when he flew into the Commonwealth, guns blazing. But it would have to do.

If she wanted to kill him, now would be the perfect time. But there was no movement coming from where she stood, so he started to speak.

He spoke of liberty and justice. Prepared, measured words to strike just the right amount of determination and anger into his people.

He spoke of sacrifice. Of the lives lost and lives they would be saving by ending the Institute. When he fell silent, his troops saluted and answered, 'Ad Victoriam!' in the dying light. The Minutemen were silent. They weren't soldiers. Especially not his soldiers. They wouldn't understand.

Anna watched him all this time. He could feel her gaze burning through his back even with the thick coat and layers of ballistic weave.

She stepped forward. He let her take the stage to say her words before the assault would begin. Anna leaned on her musket, her head bowed down. Every soul in front of the CIT was watching her in that moment.

"They took our friends."

Unlike him, it didn’t seem like she had prepared for it. There was raw emotion ringing in her voice. Hurt. Hate. Righteousness.

"They took our families. They took our loved ones, one way or another."

Silence fell so complete, he could hear the river whispering in the distance.

"They are cowards. Sneaking in the shadows, hiding under ground where we can't reach them. They think we're helpless."

Looking up, Anna straightened, her hands still resting on the stock of the Freedom Fighter.

" _They're wrong!_ "

Her voice was echoed by many people. Minutemen, yes, but also his own. His soldiers, nodding and saluting.

She was their Paladin, too, after all. Their hero.

"This went. Too. Far. Tonight we are here to put an end to it. The fear ends with us. We're here to show them that we are not helpless. We'll make them regret ever ripping our people away from where they belong."

Cheers erupted from the crowd, their voices sending out a wave of hope. It washed over Arthur too. He felt it.

"We are not to be trifled with! Today the Institute will learn what happens when you mess with the Commonwealth!"

The General had spoken.

Their bond may be broken and she may never forgive him and never love him again, but he would need to tell her, tell her that he couldn't be more proud of her.

Thrusting her musket up into the air, she roared.

"To victory! United we stand!"

 

It would be three months before he had the chance. Three month of living in the hell he had created for himself. Arthur had reports coming in from all over the Commonwealth about her exploits. She was seen around the airport, but never went in. Spotted in Diamond City by some Scribes, trading tech. Assisted a patrol near Bunker Hill.

Noticed in Goodneighbor by a few Lancers on shore leave. That one made him grit his teeth.

But since that brief meeting on the top of the Mass Fusion building after the nuclear wind blew over them, they hadn’t crossed paths again.

Not until the day she waltzed into his command deck, a dog following closely behind her. She wore an orange uniform jumpsuit, torn in some places, with dark leather pieces attached here and there.

Her hair had gotten longer. Long enough to be pulled into a small ponytail, even though the shorter strands still flew around her sharp face.

He hadn’t noticed her entrance because he had been speaking to Kells about the status of the airport. A section had collapsed recently, seriously injuring two people. He did notice _someone_ coming in but it was the dog's whine that made him look up from the papers.

Kells was the first one to jump forward, taking Anna’s hands into his. She smiled at him warmly. Smiling in return, the Lancer-Captain shook her hand enthusiastically.

"Paladin! It's great to see you again!"

"Likewise, Captain," she looked happy, even if it was just for Kells' sake. Or was she really happy to be back?

Or maybe she was indeed happier now. With Danse.

"This place was starting to get boring without you around," Kells let go of her hands and stepped back, taking his spot beside Arthur, "the squires were asking about you, you know."

They were also asking about Danse but the adults quickly shushed them whenever they did.

She nodded, her smile becoming sad.

"I know. I'm sorry I was away for so long."

"You're back now. That's all that matters."

Anna still smiled but her face went still. Thoughtful.

"... yeah."

Something about her answer rubbed him wrong. She must have come for a reason. As soon as it was taken care off, she'd be on her way again.

The time for the Prydwen to depart from the Commonwealth was coming ever closer. He didn't doubt she would choose to stay behind. Why would she come with them, with him? This was her home.

Anna turned her head to meet his gaze. The hot flame of her hatred had burned out over the past three months, but the emotion was still there. Bitter cold, iced over.

He knew the feeling.

"Elder Maxson."

It was still weird, to think that she would never call him just 'Arthur' again.

"Paladin Lester."

He wondered if she wanted him to call her 'Anna' one more time. Perhaps not.

"Paladin," Kells distracted them from each other. They both stared at the Captain, who shifted his weight awkwardly from one leg to another when their gazes pierced him, "In recognition of your exceptional service we were planning an official ceremony, granting you a new rank... But since you were indisposed and we didn't know when you'd be coming back..."

"I understand. I didn't really leave a memo when I... left."

"Still, it's a shame. It’s not every day someone is being made a Sentinel."

The last person to wear the title had been a lioness. Brave and strong, courageous to a fault. She had died like she had lived, in blood, glory and battle.

But the woman in front of him was no Sarah. She was just as strong, but in another way. Anna was no lion, for the lion charged into the light. The lion fought. The lion died bravely.

Anna was a she-wolf, cunning, half-covered in shadows. The wolf wouldn't charge the enemy. The wolf would plan. The wolf would bite to kill on the first strike. The wolf was brave, but would not throw its life away in the name of glory.

She quirked her eyebrow.

"Sentinel?"

"The only one. Second to the Elder himself."

Her second eyebrow shot up as she eyed Arthur suspiciously. His lips twitched up slightly. She hadn’t expected that. She was probably thinking that it was a trap...

"Would I get a black jumpsuit?"

Kells chuckled and nodded. Anna smirked triumphantly.

"I do not award this rank lightly. It has been years since this chapter had a Sentinel," he said sternly, trying to keep his face from smiling. "This is the highest title a Brotherhood soldiers can achieve, but we all feel that it is well deserved."

"Highest, except for yours," noted Anna, "you'd better watch it, Maxson. I'm just one step away from you."

Arthur remembered very well what happened last time she was standing one step away, throwing herself between him and the synth. Perhaps this was a mistake. He was letting her too close again. Did she come to finish him off? Destroy him?

"I'll be certain to watch my back," he growled.

"Duly noted."

Kells told her about a jetpack, waiting for her at Ingram's den at the airport. Anna beamed at him, and when he finished talking, she threw herself at Kells, laughing. The Captain awkwardly patted her on the back and excused himself.

Anna was still smiling, looking over the ruins of Boston through the windows. Arthur stepped closer to her, leaning on the railings.

"Sentinel."

"Elder."

"The Prydwen departs from the Commonwealth in three months."

"I see."

The silence stretched, becoming acutely uncomfortable.

"Would you join us in the Capital Wasteland? A Sentinel will be welcome-"

"No."

There was no room for compromise in her voice. Arthur expected that much. But at least he tried. It would have bothered him if he hadn’t.

"Very well then. You are to remain in the Commonwealth chapter, taking command over it after my departure. Paladin Rhys is assigned to your personal guard from this moment forward."

"Understood."

"Dismissed, Sentinel."

 

It was hard to fall back into the Brotherhood routine. Over the last three months she had gotten used to sleeping late. This world had no more coffee, and what passed for tea was really a herbal mix with no caffeine to speak of. Anna tried hard to distract herself from the almost painful strain in her jaw muscles as she repeatedly stopped herself from yawning.

Morning muster was boring. Especially since she now got to stand next to Maxson and Kells, with hundreds of people focused on them. She couldn't yawn; if she did she wouldn’t be able to hide it.

Even thinking about yawning made her want to do it even more.

Finally, it was over and Anna turned back from the quickly dissipating crowd and yawned in earnest, feeling like she almost dislocated her jaw in the process.

Rhys had chuckled loudly, coming up beside her.

"Rough morning?"

"Ugh, do you even need to ask?.."

The man shrugged. He and Haylen were now the only two left of recon team Gladius. It was hard to see Haylen as she was now, a pale shadow of the cheerful young girl she had first met at Cambridge Police Station.

Rhys fared a bit better, and Anna suspected that promotion was one of the reasons for his good mood. Since Anna didn’t show up for three months and she was due to receive a promotion anyway, the task of filling in Danse's old position fell to Rhys.

Not that she really cared. But she was glad for him. She wasn't sure she could step into Danse's shoes so easily.

_To the victor go the spoils._

She still felt stinging hatred when she remembered how Maxson said that. Anna had returned to make sure he would be on the receiving end of those words this time.

What she didn't expect was a promotion and praise. People seemed genuinely happy to see her again.

"Rhys, come spar with me. I need to wake up."

"Sure thing, Sentinel. I've been training a lot lately. I'm sure I'll kick your ass this time."

"Don't even dream about it," she grinned, unzipping her new black officer's jumpsuit. Cold morning air made her skin crawl as she peeled the top off, tying the sleeves around her waist.

Rhys did the same thing. They walked in silence through the morning mist, reaching the sparring ring. A few more people were around, stretching and warming up. Anna and Rhys joined them, preparing for a fight.

They stepped in the ring - nothing more than a painted square on the concrete - and stood in front of each other. That was how most of their sparring sessions started. Sizing each other up. Looking for weakness. Anna bounced on the balls of her feet lightly.

Rhys was the first to uncoil. Springing into motion, he threw a left hook at her. Being a leftie, he was at a slight advantage, but she knew about it and expected as much.

She slid back, making his fist hit the air. _Fluid like water_ , Danse always told her, “ _Don't let them grab you, it will be over._ ”

Anna was taller and so had longer reach and she used it to her advantage. Edging around Rhys, hitting him when she could and he couldn't. Though he did connect a few punches, they were more glances than anything else.

 _Use your speed_. Anna was lighter than most men. While they had the muscle bulk, she needed to expend less effort to make her body move since she wasn't carrying as much mass. So she could go faster by using just as much energy and change direction more easily.

Rhys was a pretty bulky, strong man, and even more determined. So she darted around him, always keeping her distance.

_Wait for the right moment._

There. He swung at her too hard, extending himself too much. The center of his body mass shifted, his side was wide open as he tried to retract his arm back and close the gap, fighting inertia.

_If you can only have a single strike, make it a deadly one._

That wasn't Danse's voice that said that. It was Arthur's.

 _Maxson's_ , she reminded herself again. _Maxson's_...

While she was contemplating that, the moment came and went. Rhys recovered from his slip up and rammed his shoulder into her, sending her tumbling on the floor.

"YES!" He punched the air, grinning from ear to ear. Groaning, Anna still smiled at him, blinking away her tears.

"Nice one, Rhys," she nodded approvingly, getting up, " best of five?"

 

The sun was creeping high in the sky when they were done. Rhys excused himself to get to the showers while Anna stayed in the training grounds, catching her breath.

Drinking the water from a can, she looked around. There were a lot more people now, and most of them she didn't know. She supposed they were new Initiates, recruited from the Commonwealth. Their jumpsuits were too pristine to be anyone else. They needed to be whipped into shape.

Her own uniform made her stand out. It was pristine too, black as night. She only got it from Teagan yesterday, soon after getting promoted.

Apparently, someone had it made for her in anticipation of her return...

Anna spotted Ingram and Kells chatting idly by the entrance. She could use some company. The Sentinel shouldn't stand around ogling.

Perhaps the two of them could satisfy her curiosity. Maybe they can tell her how to achieve what she came here to do.

"Ingram, Kells."

Proctor and Captain noticed her, turning towards her in an instant. It was almost like they were caught doing something illegal.

"Sentinel, my ass," Ingram grinned, "and I thought you'd be gone by now."

"Why would you think that?" Anna winked at her. It was nice to be lighthearted for a change. The last three months had not been as cheery.

"Well, I wouldn't know. I don't have a habit of walking out and never returning."

"Hey Captain," Anna chewed her lip, considering how she should approach it, but then decided that beating around the bush would just make it harder, "I have a question about the ranks."

Ingram and Kells exchanged some sort of glance. She couldn't quite place it.

"About your duties as a Sentinel?"

"Nope. I was wondering how does one becomes an Elder."

The man paled. He cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder.

"Sentinel, it's... not something to be thrown around lightly."

"I was just curious," she smiled innocently, "after all, I sort of catapulted myself through the ranks and never had a chance to learn that much..."

Ingram chuckled and elbowed Kells, which looked rather painful, considering that she was all metal and hard edges in her power frame.

"Uh... Normally Elders are appointed by the Council of the West Coast or the High Elder. Since there were no High Elders since Elder Maxson's grandfather, Richard Maxson, the Council has the last say."

"I see."

"However... if a Brotherhood soldier ranked Paladin of above is feeling like the Elder is not performing accordingly, he or... she may challenge him for the rank."

"And what would the challenge entail?"

"Usually combat," shrugged Ingram, "the type is chosen by the defending side."

"Interesting. And what happens when the Elder loses?"

The Captain threw his hands up, sending a couple of papers flying.

"This is highly inappropriate topic for a conversation, Sentinel! You are pretty much talking treason!"

"Just tell me. That's an order."

Kells looked positively livid now. Ingram grinned. But Anna _was_ outranking him now, and he had to comply.

"The Elder is demoted. Last time it happened, Elder McNamara became a Knight and..."

Over Kells' shoulder Anna saw a glimpse of a heavy leather coat.

"MAXSON!!"

The shout turned the heads the entire airport towards her. Including the Elder's. Anna saw Kells turning ashen. She took a deep breath. This was the point of no return.

"Yes, Sentinel," Maxson answered in a cold voice, slowly turning toward her and clasping his hands behind his back, "but you'll do well to address me by my proper title."

"I challenge you for the place of the Eastern chapter's Elder."

"God," Kells gasped, grabbing her by the shoulder, "what are you doing?!"

She shook his hand off and marched towards Maxson with Ingram and Kells at her heels.

"I have no time for games, Sentinel," the Elder spat, turning on his heel. But before he could move, Ingram put herself in his way.

"With all due respect, Arthur, if you walk away now, she wins. She formally challenged you, she is rank high enough to do that and you can't quit now that everyone saw her defy your authority. The second you walk, she becomes Elder."

Maxson glowered at her, understanding that she was right. He turned back to face Anna, standing a few paces away, arms crossed under her small breasts.

"Fine," he growled, "I get to choose what the challenge would be?"

"That is correct, sir," Kells was clutching his papers, his hands trembling slightly. He probably knew that it wouldn't be hard for Maxson to figure out how did she know about the whole thing.

"Excellent," in two long strides he was right in front of Anna. She could feel his breath blowing over her. Maxson was quite menacing in his fury. But he could never properly loom over her since they were almost of the same height.

Anna smirked again, watching his jaw tighten as she did that. She missed him… but she’d die first before admitting that to him.

She missed the subtle touches. The quiet smiles. The laugh he would let out of his chest only when he was at ease, with her. She missed the feel of his body against hers. The confidence she felt when she was with him. The warmth. The peace. The love.

It only was made worse by the fact that he was so close now.

But Danse’s face still hung in front of her eyes. Maxson was wrong. She would prove him wrong. Right now.

"So, what's it going to be?" Anna asked lightly, as if asking him what was for dinner.

"Hand-to-hand combat."

A gasp went over the crowd that gathered around them. Everyone knew that the Elder was one of the best.

Only Paladin Rhys, still dripping water on the ground after rushing back over from the showers, chuckled behind the rows of people.

 

Maxson stepped into the ring, dropping his heavy coat on the ground. He unzipped his jumpsuit and tied it around his waist, Anna did the same.

The only difference was that he didn't have anything else under it. Whispering in the crowd got a lot louder, mostly from the women.

Anna tilted her hip, assuming her usual 'so what?' stance.

"Trying to distract me, Maxson?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Sentinel," his tone was mocking. He proceeded to wrap his hands and warm up, his powerful muscles rolling under the scar-crossed skin.

Anna bit her lip and turned her head away. That was... _very_ distracting. So she, despite being still loose from her earlier sparring with Rhys, decided to do some warm-up too.

When they were done, the silence fell upon the airport. They stared at each other, sizing each other up. Maxson looked smug.

He probably thought she wouldn't be much of a challenge. But while she had never sparred with him, she had done it with Danse.

And Danse could beat him. Sometimes. He couldn't be that much tougher. And besides, she had a good hunch that he wasn't asked to spar that much anymore. Nobody would risk beating up the Elder.

Except for her.

"Alright," Ingram was towering above the people around her in her frame. She walked to the edge of the ring, crossing her arms, "Standard rules apply. No funny business. Best of three walks away as the Elder. Rounds last three minutes each."

"Last chance, Sentinel," he said in a low voice, as they started circling around the ring, waiting for each other to attack first, "walk away. I'll even let you keep your title."

"How gracious of you," hissed Anna, watching his movement intensely, "but no. I like your quarters. I think they suit me better."

"Oh, you seemed to like them alright," said Maxson, loud enough for the people to hear. He was grinning, "when I had you bent over my table."

Her fingers twitched. He was trying to provoke her. Make her lose her cool. Well then...

"Come on now, Elder. _Dance_ with me," she called out to him.

The blow to her head came so fast she barely had time to dodge. She kept her balance however, quickly answering with a ruthless low kick. Trying to make him less mobile.

The kick connected with the side of his shin and he groaned. His counterattack came too late and she quickly edged away, one hand in front of her, the other at about waist level, ready to uncoil and punch.

He was favoring his right leg a bit now. That was a good advantage. They were like David and Goliath, and she was determined to give him hell.

_Flowing like water._

Hook, hook, kick, uppercut. She moved out of the way of his punches with quick sidesteps, graceful and precise. Each time he struck, she dodged, sliding along his extended hand or leg, keeping her distance.

_Fast like lightning._

Her blows didn't seem to do much to his powerful body, but she saw redness quickly darkening under his skin. Blood pooling. Dodging another attack, she dove under his hand on the right side, ramming her elbow into his ribs.

She felt the bone crunch and he gasped.

Maxson swatted at her, but since his right leg was a bit unsteady, he fumbled. She was gone when his attack came.

Shifting her weight, she waited until the last second to move. Pivoting away from his attack, Anna took one more step, and she was on the other side of him while his punch was still flying out in the direction of her last strike.

Her foot had caught his left ankle from behind. His center of gravity was slightly off balance. Anna's wrist connected to Maxson's chest, his skin burning with heat, the hair slightly tickling her arm.

_Concentrate. Don't disappear in the sensation. Not now._

She pushed with her arm, hard. Using his momentum and her body as a lever, she kicked the foot out from under him at the same time.

Losing his balance, Maxson flew backwards head first.

Before he could recover Anna's heel pressed onto his throat, just hard enough to make it clear - _don't fucking move. I'll crush your windpipe._

"Score!"

 

Arthur stared into the sky, dazed. His side hurt, a shooting pain in his rib told him it was probably cracked. His right shin throbbed with pain, and his head...

He didn't even see it.

He felt her striking his chest, not very strongly, more like a slap with her wrist. He was going to grab her by it and make a throw...

Instead, she threw him. A willowy, light woman, toppling a massive man like him with nothing but common physics: momentum and lever. And she was fast, too.

He had underestimated her. The biggest mistake of all. He was feeling the effects of her punches already, and he was yet to land a single hit.

Her foot crushed his throat but didn't completely block the air off. It was a warning.

Ingram called a score. Best of three, she had said. He thought it would be easy for him to overpower her without causing a serious injury or death. He had never wanted her to die. That was why he chose hand-to-hand.

By holding back... he would lose this one. When had she gotten so strong? How?

 _Danse_.

He must have taught her. That would explain it. She was used to fighting large men that were at least two times stronger than her. She didn't fear it. Anna would be the one to know how to fight the odds.

She stared at him from above, the sun shining directly from behind her head, like a halo. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Despite all the pain he had gone through these last three months, despite her fighting him for his place in the world, he didn't want to hurt her.

But he had to.

Her foot came off his throat. Arthur slowly got up on his feet. He couldn’t hold back. He would have to hurt her. But he knew that she of all people could take it.

Breathing in deeply, he cursed. The shooting pain in his side only got worse when he did that. He needed to finish this quickly before he ran out of breath.

So he threw the first punch again. Again, she sidestepped, moving away, sliding along his extended hand. But now he knew what to expect. Using his momentum, he pivoted into the opposite direction, turning, and kicked back.

His kick connected as she moved into her next position. He heard all the breath being punched out of her lungs as she flew up in the air. She would have a giant bruise on her chest, if not a few cracked ribs as well.

It was painful to watch her getting hurt. By him.

Anna landed on her feet, like a cat, swiveling a bit. Trying to keep her balance, Arthur rushed over towards her, charging before she could recover.

She darted away, but not fast enough. He grabbed her by the wrist before she could escape his reach completely.

_She's mine._

He pulled on her hand, ripping her feet off the ground. She was light like a feather. Losing the footing almost always costs a fight. He knew he had this one.

Throwing her over his shoulder with ease, he crashed her into the ground. A strangled groan escaped her lips, and she screwed her eyes shut in pain. But she flipped on her stomach anyway and tried to get up...

His hand went over the back of her neck as he kneeled over her, pinning her face down into the ground. Anna struggled, which was more than he did. He pressed down harder. Her feet scrambled under her as she tried to rise.

Her ass rubbed against his crotch and she went still.

_Shit._

He couldn't lie. He couldn't hide this. Not in a suggestive position they ended up in. Adrenalin boiling in his blood, proximity to her, the fight itself, the danger. He was rock hard already.

"Score!" announced Ingram, "the winner of the next round would be the Elder."

Arthur got up on his feet, tightening the sleeves of his jumpsuit around his waist. The falling fabric was hiding his excitement well enough but she had already felt it.

Anna glowered at him, a wry smirk on her lips. Her breathing was uneven. But as far as he could tell, they both were pumping with so much adrenalin neither of them really felt the pain yet.

This was it.

"To the victor go the spoils," Anna hissed, as they circled around each other, and he saw red.


	3. Tiebreaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight is not over yet. It's time to decide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating is changed to E.

Three minutes.

It's nothing when one is busy with regular things. In a conversation, three minutes are gone in a blink of an eye. Three minutes is barely enough to drink a cup of tea. Not enough to do anything of any importance.

But in a fight like this, three minutes meant forever.

It seemed for Anna like they were dancing around each other for an eternity. Time seemed to stretch as he hit, she dodged, he blocked, she moved. This time both of them were weary of each other, more careful. More precise.

A knee connected to his stomach, making Maxson groan but not stopping his fist as he hit back into her shoulder before she could move away. It burned, but Anna ignored it.

More dodging, more blocking. Hit, hit, miss. The world around them was a blur of colors and sounds. There was no world outside this ring. She threw another kick.

He caught her foot mid-flight. Even before she felt it, Anna knew it was the end. Danse had told her so...

But Danse had also told her to kill him. She didn't.

As she flew through the the air, thrown by Maxson like a rag doll, she kicked his hand off with another foot, pushing off his own body in the opposite direction.

Crashing into the floor again, she rolled up, scrambling back on her feet. There was a wide smear of blood left on the concrete: the skin was scraped off her shoulder when she had landed on it. Maxson looked stunned by her feat. Anna was panting, and every breath was sending a tremble through her body. Her ribs were brutally bruised from that kick, she knew it.

Growling, he charged.

Three minutes. Her body begged for a pause. But she pushed herself further. Just one more dodge. One more kick...

The blur came to a halt when Ingram's metal frame appeared between them. Anna took in a slow breath, then another one, and time seemed to snap back to it's original speed. The tunnel vision ended and sounds and visuals flooded her senses in a rush. People yelling and cheering. Screaming, whistling. She could now make out individual faces in the crowd. There was Rhys, grinning and nodding. Haylen, pressing her hands to her mouth in horror. Lucia, bashing her fist into her palm as she yelled something.

"Round is up," the Proctor said, shaking her head, "I'm calling it a draw. Kells, what’s the protocol for a tie in a duel like that?"

The Captain seemed to be relieved.

"In a situation of a draw, both parties get to keep their current rank and their honor is intact. A stalemate can be broken by a repeated challenge if the participants so wish."

"Oh, no, they don't," Ingram said firmly, "get up on the Prydwen you two and take care of those bruises. Out."

Anna glowered at Maxson and he nodded. The Elder dabbed his split lip with his wrist, noticing the blood, and spit it to the side.

She marched past him, hearing his footsteps following her even over all the noise.

"The show's over, you lazy fucks, get back to work!" bellowed Ingram behind them.

They didn't talk when he sped up, catching up to her. Anna's ears still rang with white noise when they climbed into a vertibird, standing side by side.

She threw him a sideway glance, noticing that he was watching her, too. Both of them were battered, bloodied and bruised. Anna's veins were still singing with adrenaline, and from what she could see, his blood was boiling, too. She could barely hear the vertibird over the sound of her heart, hammering in her chest.

The silence between them was unbearable. So she started taking the wraps off her hands, just to do _something_.

As soon as the ‘bird attached to the dock, Anna was all but running through the command deck. She reached the ladder and climbed up with Maxson at her heels like a shadow. She turned to the medbay on the main deck.

A rough hand clasped her by the neck from behind and threw her in the opposite direction. She was sent stumbling towards the Elder's quarters with Maxson blocking the only way of retreat.

Leaving her with no alternative, she stepped back, kicking the door to his room blindly and backing up, hands raised up in front of her defensively. She felt the edge of a table hitting her thighs. Grabbing a hold of the corner with one hand, she pushed and sent it flying to the side, scattering books and notes, breaking a few bottles.

Making room for their tiebreaker.

Maxson locked the door behind him as he walked in. There was no referee here. No one would stop them if this went too far.

Growling, Anna threw herself at him, landing the first hit. He didn't move away, instead grabbing her by the hair and sent her to the floor with but a flick of his wrist.

No rules. No honor. Something Danse had never taught her.

She went for his eyes but he smacked her hand away, attacking her head at the same time. She blocked it with her wrist, yet she never noticed the second strike. He hit her in the stomach with an open palm while she was distracted, sending her stumbling away.

She tried to knee him in the crotch, but he expected that, blocking her with his leg. Anna was trying to attack him from every side but he blocked it all easily. Without having much space to maneuver in the tight quarters, she was getting cornered by him.

Taking another step back, she hit the wall. End of the line.

Maxson forcefully pushed her into the wall but instead of hitting her, he buried his face into her hair, whipped free from the tie. He inhaled deeply, making her shiver.

He was still half naked, his coat forgotten at the ring. Anna was half naked,too, and she was now acutely aware of his proximity, being back in the locked room with him.

Three months apart had been harsh. It was hard to breathe all of a sudden, and not just because of her ribs.

She was sure she still hated him. She truly wanted to take his place, to wrench away everything he had fought for and held dear. To make the fabled Elder Maxson live through what Danse had to endure.

But as hatred was burning itself away, she was left with the love that didn't.

Anna had loved many people in her life. She had loved Nate for being resilient and strong, but also caring. She had loved that he didn't let the war and wounds break him.

She loved Danse for his loyalty and courage. For his deep understanding of her. For his arms around her when she needed him most.

Yet somehow Anna also still loved Arthur Maxson _despite_ everything that he was. A wounded boy. A broken man. A tarnished king. He was vengeful, angry, brimming with hatred and pain. But she loved him anyway.

Loving him not for, but despite, who he was. They were both broken in a way. It just so happened that their jagged edges fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

As she was consumed by her thoughts, Anna didn't notice that Maxson was staring at her with his eyes that were the color of a midday sky. She didn't notice it until he leaned over to kiss her.

She bit his lip, reopening the wound she had given him. He flinched but didn't pull away and she tasted his blood on her tongue.

He broke the kiss, his rough hands brushing over her sides. The same hands that had thrown her around like a rag doll, the same hands that had almost crushed her.

"Anna," he keened desperately, his breath coming out in short gasps. The adrenaline rush was wearing off. The longing, the pain in his voice were apparent. ‘ _Anna_ ’, he pleaded. ‘ _I missed you_ ’, unsaid, but clear as day.

Biting her lip, she studied him intensely. Noticing things.

His beard had grown longer and looked unkempt. The shadows under his eyes were darker. There were new, thin worry lines on his forehead that hadn’t been there before. Glancing to the side, she noted the amount of empty bottles on his desk.

He was slipping without her, just like she was without him.

In a split second decision she was throwing her arms around him. Anna pressed a fervent kiss to his lips. It was a bad idea. It was not going to end well.

But she shoved common sense away, just like she shoved them both away from the wall. They tumbled to the floor, ripping at each other's clothing. The metal burned her skin like ice, but it quickly soaked up their heat.

He thrust inside her aching pussy as soon as he was able to. They both cried out, shocked by the rush of sensation. There was no foreplay to this, no words whispered, no caress or care. It was frenzy, with both of them clawing at each other and growling like wild animals.

He pushed inside her desperately, hard and fast, like he wanted to fuck her into the floor. She wouldn't have it any other way and she was meeting his every thrust.

They both had lost so much that they couldn't afford to lose each other.

His thrusts grew erratic as he was running out of air, every intake of breath hurting his bruised ribs. But it was enough to bring them both over the edge, screaming. And finally, Anna felt whole again.

"Arthur," she whispered, coming down from the high, and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "I so hate that I love you, Arthur..."

Blood from his split lip dropped onto her cheek, sliding down like a red tear.

He rolled away from her and carefully collected her in his arms, pressing her body to his. Mindful of their injuries now, he nuzzled into the top of her head, his hands caressing her bruised skin gently.

"I'm..." He fell silent for a moment, frowning. Finally, he continued, "I regret driving you away, Anna."

She looked at him expectantly. Arthur sighed.

“I shouldn't have done it. It was a… mistake. Poor judgment…”

Anna kept her eyes on him. Waiting. He was silent. She pulled away slowly, untangling her limbs from him.

“... I'm… I’m sorry.”

She sighed, closing her eyes, leaning back towards him.

"Took you long enough,” she said quietly. Arthur pulled her back into an embrace, pressing her against his chest carefully.

"I just... I can't believe that you came back," his voice was quiet, unsteady, "even if it was to kick my ass. Nobody... nobody ever came back."

She understood.

"Let's get to Cade before we pass out," she whispered, moving away from him. He let her go, reluctantly, and watched as she put back her tank top and zipped her uniform close.

"Will you run away again?"

Anna turned back to Arthur, his eyes were pleading. Hoping. She looked away.

"I don't know. I came to destroy you, but… I can’t. I really don’t know anything anymore. I guess it would depend on you."

In a second, he was zipped up and on his feet. Unlocking the door, he carefully picked her up and carried her to the medbay, ignoring his own injuries.

 

"Well, that went well."

Ingram clicked her bottle with Kells', grinning. For the first time in months the silence of the night shift was disturbed by the gentle sounds of a bed squeaking, sometimes punctuated by soft moans.

The Captain shook his head, taking a large gulp of Gwinnett's.

"If this is how every fight they might have is going to go, God help us all."

"Nah, I think the worst is over now. I told you, they just needed to beat the crap out of each other."

Kells grumbled into his bottle before reaching into one of his pockets. Fifty caps clinked on the metal table and Ingram quickly swept them up, winking.

"Want another bet?"

"Why not?" The Captain's eyes lit up. He smirked, "I’ve got to get my money back."

"I bet that..." The redhead rubbed her chin with metal fingers, "we're going to call our dear Anna 'Sentinel Maxson' no later than six months from now."

"Hmpf..." Kells seemed unsure. Ingram elbowed the Captain, making some beer spill on his vest, "That is worth more than fifty caps, you know. Not every day a Maxson is getting married."

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be," Ingram's eyes narrowed, "two hundred then."

"Two hundred and fifty," Kells put his bottle down firmly on the table, "and we have a deal."

"Deal."

The man laughed quietly and tipped his cap.

"Kiss your caps goodbye, dear. I'm the one who would be officiating the damn wedding."

Ingram groaned, rolling her eyes at him.

"There are more people who can do that in the Capital Wasteland! I assume she is coming, of course."

A loud cry from behind the wall sounded very much like their Elder’s name.

"I don't doubt that."

They clicked their bottles together again, grinning.


	4. Lady of the Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the Prydwen to leave the Commonwealth. But not before Anna finishes one more important thing.

It's always hard to say goodbye.

The evening breeze played with Anna's hair as she looked over the snowy Castle. Alive with lights and voices, it was hard to believe that not a year ago, it had been nothing more than a mirelurk-infested ruin.

Today was the last day. In the morning, the Prydwen would rise high over the Commonwealth and return to where it had come from: the Capital Wasteland, the ruins of Washington, D.C.

Anna had been there before. She was curious to see what was left of the Old World's - her world's - capital city. She had wondered whether she would recognize it at all.

Her friends came to the Castle to say their goodbyes. Anna promised that she would visit some day. Piper was asking if she would be bringing little Maxsons with her.

Anna smacked her on the back of the head before laughing and hugging her tightly.

Hancock was grinning. He was wearing his best belt. The mayor discreetly pushed some grape Mentats into her palm and whispered, 'You know we wouldn't have worked out anyway, doll,' before quickly stepping away.

Even Strong was here. He asked if she thought the milk of human kindness could be found in the Capital Wasteland. Anna patted him on the huge arm and assured him that if she learned anything about it, she would let him know.

Out of all of her companions, only Dogmeat and Codsworth would be flying off into the other wasteland with her. The others... she was confident the others would fare well without her.

"There you are, General," Preston's voice pulled Anna out of her thoughts. She smiled, shaking her head.

"You are the General now. You don't have to call me that anymore."

The new dark blue jacket with golden stars looked good on him, stately even. The tattered green scarf was still wrapped around his neck, though.

"In my book, you are my General, Anna. Always will be," he hugged her tightly, patting her on the back, "thank you. For everything."

"No," she whispered, "thank you, for not giving up on me."

"Don't mention it," his smile was sad. "We all have our lowest points. I'm just glad it all worked out."

Anna looked away, feeling her eyes prickling with tears. She still felt bad for her outburst in the old statehouse.

When Preston had found her there four months ago, she was groaning with skull-splitting pain. The Jet high was gone and she had no more Mentats. Even her bottle had run dry. She called for Hancock but he didn't answer, probably still dead asleep from last night's party. And Fahrenheit would never move a finger for her.

Out of nowhere, Garvey had brought her water. She didn't ask him how he had found her because she didn't want to know. Didn't want to hear him say that the Minutemen needed her. Didn't want to know how the settlements were doing.

The Commonwealth had been saved. The Institute was defeated. Her son was dead. She was done. The world didn't need her anymore, and she didn't care.

Anna didn't care enough anymore to even brush her hair or change her clothes. The Vault suit was dirty and ripped in some places but she didn't want to wear anything else, anything that would mark her allegiance to anyone. No, now she was just the nameless vault dweller. Not the Paladin, not the General, not Charmer.

Nobody.

"General," Preston sat down on his heels next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder, "let's get you out of here."

She ignored him, finishing off the water and throwing the can into his face. Preston frowned but didn't move.

"Just leave me," huffed Anna, rummaging in her pack, "find someone else to do the shit for you. Everyone else did."

"Shit, Anna! This isn't about that! It's about you!"

She found some Psycho at the bottom of her bag. Not her first choice of high, but it would do. But before she could inhale it, Preston wrenched it away from her. She tried to fight him, but with the terrible hangover she was having, there was no chance.

"Preston! Get the fuck out and just leave me be!" She growled, rubbing her bloodshot eyes. Garvey was shaking his head.

"No. I ain't walking away unless you walk with me," she threw the empty bottle at him. He ducked, and it shattered against the wall.

"Preston!.."

"He's right, doll."

The noise seemed to have woken Hancock. The ghoul walked over to her, swaying slightly on his feet. He plopped down on the couch next to her and swung his arm around her shoulders.

"Look, I see ya ain't really having fun here," he put his usual hat back on with his other hand, "parties and drinks, it's alright. But I do chems for the heck of it. It's fun. You are running away from something. Someone."

Anna pushed his hand from her shoulders and scooted away from him on the couch.

"Now, I ain't saying there is something wrong with it. That's what most people do. But you and me... we ain't like most people. Are ya gonna let that boy-toy in a fancy coat stomp ya out or what?"

"Shut up, Hancock," she growled through her teeth.

"Think about everyone who needs you, Anna," Preston whispered, taking her hands in his, "me, Curie, Cait. And Danse, especially Danse. Did you even visit him this last month?"

"No," her mouth was dry again, and her voice felt scratchy, "no, I..."

"He wants to see you, I assure you. He was devastated. Just like you are."

"I'm just... I can't. There, I said it. Now leave me be you two."

"Tell ya what," Hancock produced a pack of cigarettes from his coat, "you go see Danse and I'll give you my personal stash of grape Mentats. I know you like 'em."

"Hancock!" growled Preston, clenching his fists. Anna looked away and didn't see that the ghoul winked at him.

"Fine. I'll go. Just to shut you two up. Where is he?"

"In your, well, now _his_ room in the Rexford. As usual."

Anna rose from her seat, swaying on unsteady feet. Preston let her lean on him when they slowly made their way down the winding stairs. She let go of him when they made it into the streets, covered in thick mist.

In the mist, it seemed like the world never ended. Covering all the wear and tear of the buildings, blanketing the people into shadowy silhouettes, she could almost believe it was the same Boston she had lived in two hundred years ago.

But of course, it wasn't. Anna stumbled her way to the Rexford hotel, kicking the door in without any reservations. She needed Preston's help again to make it up the stairs, however. They reached Danse's room and Anna paused for a few seconds before knocking.

No answer came and so she pushed the door open. He still didn't lock his shit, being so used to the open doors policy on the Prydwen.

Danse was still wearing the Shroud costume, probably after spending the night on the streets. He was sitting in an old easy chair, nursing a bottle of whiskey.

An entire row of empty bottles sat next to him on a scratched up table.

Anna's heart dropped when she saw him like that. Danse didn't bother to shave anymore and his hair grew long enough to fall into his eyes that were surrounded by dark circles. The costume was torn in a lot of places and he didn't fix them. The coat was also splattered with fresh blood.

"Danse..."

His head jerked up, focusing on her face. His eyes widened.

"Anna," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

He looked terrible. Anna knew she didn't look that much better herself. Maybe worse.

"She wanted to come see you," answered Preston while she struggled to find the words.

"You look... awful. What happened?" Poor, sweet Danse always caring for others before caring for himself.

"Nothing," Anna whispered, lowering her eyes.

Danse was on his feet in a second, stumbling towards her. Preston stepped back as the former Paladin hugged her, pressing her tight against his chest.

Anna's arms didn't move in response.

"Did you ever go back?" Whispered Danse, "To the Brotherhood?"

"No..."

Why was he asking this? Didn't it hurt him, too, to even thinking about going back?

"They need you, Anna... You're their Paladin now..."

"No!"

She ripped herself away from Danse, a bit too fast. She lost her balance and had to grab onto the wall as her head pulsed with pain at the sudden movement.

"How can you say all these things?! How can you still believe in them after what they did?! After what Maxson did?!"

"Anna..." Danse's voice was quiet but calm, "I may not be with them anymore, but it doesn't change who I am... I am a Brotherhood soldier, and so are you. You can try to hide it, run away from it, but you can't change that. It's a part of you now. And I know all too well that hiding from yourself is pointless."

She slid down the wall, her legs weak. Hancock was right, Danse was right. She wanted to be nobody, but the Paladin, the General and the Charmer had never left. They were inside of her. Shunned by alcohol and chems, but they were still there. Waiting.

"It's all Maxson's fault," she said bitterly, "I will make him pay for it."

"He is the Elder, Anna. You can't turn on him without turning on the entire Brotherhood. And I won't let you. You won't let you."

"I'll find a way."

Danse's smile was sad.

"If I had to guess, he is paying his own price. But do what you must... If you have enough heart."

She never went back for those Mentats, marching off for the Castle with Preston after giving Danse a tight hug.

 

They stood on the battlements, looking over the partially frozen bay. Preston pointed at the gauss rifle she was holding in her hands, smirking.

"This turned out to be one hell of a weapon. I didn't think it could get any stronger, but again, you proved me wrong."

"It was a team effort," she smiled warmly.

It really was. When she had come back to the Castle three month ago, battered and bruised, Preston was so enraged he had begun loading the cannons.

Anna stopped him just in time. She told him what had happened and that she was leaving the Commonwealth with the Brotherhood. He was stunned. He didn’t get it at all and kept asking if she was alright.

Ronnie Shaw, on the other hand, was... understanding. Anna hadn’t expected that. The older woman came up to her and somewhat hesitantly thrust her gauss rifle into Anna's hands.

"Take it, General. I 'eard the Capital Wasteland is brimming with Behemoths. That'll be a good thing to have."

The Last Minute. It was a well-maintained rifle. Old but trusty. A piece of her life to remind Anna of the days when she had been the General.

But as she was tracing the barrel with her hand, she had an idea. A crazy idea.

Sturges told her the same thing when she told him about it. But he was all about crazy technical challenges. They started on the plans immediately.

A new barrel made of high-quality polished steel. The old and rusty one wouldn't do. It took some time and effort to procure but Hancock knew just the guy. A scrapper in Goodneighbor owed him a big favor and Hancock decided to call it even if he got him enough good steel to make it work.

The capacitor coils were partially rusted, so they had to refurbish them, too. Nick had enough copper wire lying around his office to make almost all of it. Anna didn't ask why.

Mac grumbled at her as she attached the high-power night vision scope. He kindly reminded her that it was still his, even if he let her use it. She pulled his stupid cap over his face and went back to work.

Danse made the excellent recoil compensating stock for her. It seemed he was happy to put his skill to good use after sitting idle for so long. With Anna bringing back his old power armor, he was almost himself again.

The suppressor she made herself, with a bit of help from Deacon. After all, he had admitted that he knew a thing or two about subterfuge. A gauss rifle was not a quiet thing, so the suppressor was almost as long as the weapon itself.

Pretty much all the parts of the rifle ended up refurbished or replaced. It was basically a new gun made from the shell of the old one, and it was one powerhouse of a weapon. Anna felt like it also needed a new name.

"There is your carriage, General," Preston smiled, pointing towards the approaching vertibird. Anna chuckled. Preston was silent for a moment, and then he took off his favorite hat.

"I want you to have it," he said quietly, putting it on her head, "so you won't forget me."

Anna stared at him in silence. His lucky hat. He almost never took it off.

"Preston, I..."

He winked.

"You don't have to say anything. General."

"I won't ever forget you, with or without the hat," she smiled, putting her hand on his shoulder, "my friend."

"And I'm glad to hear that. Do you want me to call him over here, by the way?"

"Please."

Anna turned away from the Castle, looking at the Prydwen. She was really doing it. This was real. The beautiful gauss rifle in her hands was real. The man coming to get her from here was also real.

Sometimes she worried she would wake up back in the year 2077 after a long nightmare and would never be whole again.

She would recognize his footsteps among thousands of others. Heavy, strong, confident. He climbed up the icy stairs quickly and she turned to face him.

Arthur Maxson walked up to her, smiling quietly. His eyes were inevitably drawn to the rifle in her hands, the barrel gleaming in the evening light.

"That's one hell of a gun," he said, obviously curious. She held it up to him, letting him take it. Arthur inspected it with fascination, tracing his fingers over the coils and the suppressor.

"May I?" He asked nodding at the gun. Anna smiled.

He lined up the sights and held the trigger down for a second, letting it charge up. The coils sparkled slightly, glowing in the dying light. The shot flew off over the bay, piercing blue, just like his eyes.

"This is something," he breathed out, lowering the rifle, "you know, a magnificent weapon like this must have a name."

"It does."

He looked at her expectantly, she had his full attention. She took a deep breath, her ribs healed weeks ago. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Excalibur."

His eyes widened in silent shock. He opened his mouth but was at a loss for words. Anna's heart was now pounding high in her throat as if trying to make up for the earlier pause.

"And it's yours... if you'll have me."

As the meaning of her words hit him, she watched his face change from shock to confusion to disbelief. And then to complete and utter joy.

"Anna..." he sounded hoarse, so he cleared his throat, "are you... Are you asking me?.."

She nodded, trembling, and it wasn't because of the cold winter breeze.

"Your answer, Elder Arthur Maxson?"

His hands tightened around the gun. He breathed out, a cloud of steam escaping his lips.

"I was reading about the pre-war customs, looking for a fitting ring, thinking how to make it right for you..."

Anna shook her head, laughing quietly.

"That wouldn't really be us, Arthur. I think you know that much. This," she gestured towards Excalibur, "is more like it."

He took a deep breath, stepping closer.

"Yes. A thousand times, _yes_. I was lost without you, Anna. I don't want to spend a day of my life without you ever again."

The snow was starting to fall. The winter was slowly fading into the early spring, but it wasn't giving up just yet. 

Arthur left his new rifle on the parapet of the wall and embraced her.

"You're a true Maxson," he whispered, "true steel."

" _Anna Maxson_. I do like how it sounds," she smirked wryly, turning her head towards him. He smiled, taking her face in his hands.

"You are one crazy, genius, impossible time traveler. And I love you more than I thought I ever could."

 

He kissed her for all the world to see on the battlements of the Castle. His future, his love, his impossible chance. His Lady of the Lake, bringing him Excalibur as her proposal.

She was the only person in his life to ever come back to him. And Arthur would be damned if he’d let her to slip away ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after... LOL JUST KIDDING.
> 
> Torturing Arthur Maxson is just too much fun. There is another (the last one) part of this series coming, and it's a big one. So stay tuned, people :) Tiny out.


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